


Bookshelves

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-27
Updated: 2003-10-27
Packaged: 2018-10-06 13:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10335383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS : NoneSUMMARY : A mishap sparks a memory...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Bookshelves

##  Bookshelves

##### Written by bk   
Comments? Write to us at [forward@stargatefan.com](mailto:forward@stargatefan.com)

  * SPOILERS : None 
  * SUMMARY : A mishap sparks a memory... 
  * RATING PG - not a happy fic. 



* * *

His red-rimmed eyes scanned the room.  Book on shelves, books in nooks. _Books on shelves in nooks on hooks_ , he thought, and clenched his eyes tight shut.  Damn those books anyway, they are what got him into this mess in the first place.

“Doctor, are you still with me?”

“Yes.”   His hands tightened around his cup of water, and he took a sip distractedly.  The books stood tall and mighty on the shelf behind white-coat man, straight, defiant columns of knowledge, daring anyone to come within reach.

“How have you been feeling?”

What kind of question was that?  He didn’t even look at the man, ignored his stupid, starched white coat and notebook he kept scribbling in, damn, another book.  His eyes clenched shut again.

“Doctor Jackson?”

“Fine!”he snapped. “I feel fine.”  His hand tightened around the flimsy cup, crushing it.  Water spilled over his fingers and soaked his pants, but he didn’t care.   Where was he going to go anyway?   Who would see him?

“Doctor, I need you to concentrate.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said don’t call me that.  Don’t call me. . .doctor.”

“But that is your title.”

“No.   It’s a trap.   It’s a meaningless name, a prefix, something that leads to something else.  It’s not me.”

“What does it lead to?”

His face reddened, his eyes squinted with tears.  He tried to hold his mouth straight but it curved down into a frown, then broke into sobs.   The man across from him waited until composure was regained.

“Doctor. . .Mister Jackson. . .can you tell me what happened?”

Of course he could.   He remembered all of it, in his nightmares, in waking dreams, in voices and shrieks in his head and in the straight lines of bricks that composed so many nearby buildings.   “The shelf broke.”  His lids hung heavy over tired, unfocused eyes.  He knotted his fingers.  “It fell, too many books.”

“I see.   Did you repair it?”

“No, I didn’t, I couldn’t. . .” his face screwed up again, and he fought to hold back his anguish.   “Shelf was too narrow, too light.   My books are too heavy. . .”

“How many books?”

A small voice met his ears.  “A lifetime.”

“And what were these books?”

“Uh, they, uh, my library.  Books on Egypt, world history, different languages, dialects, records of my travels, my journals with my notes,” his voice cracked, “my parent’s journals, uh, some fiction but not much.”  He licked his lips and looked down.

“And they all fell?”

“Yes.”

“And you couldn’t stop it.”

“No, I tried.   I couldn’t. . .oh god.”   He buried his head in his hands.

“Do you remember the events on PX3-999?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Can you tell me about it?”

Daniel shook his head vigorously.  “No.”

“Doctor. . .”

“I said don’t call me that!”

“I need to know what happened.”

“No, you don’t.”   Neither did he.   He didn’t want to remember, couldn’t make him. . .

“I know this is difficult for you.”

Daniel’s breath caught in his throat.  Difficult?   Difficult?  A pained laughed escaped him.  “Congratulations, Doctor, you have just relegated this from the morbid to the mundane.” 

“Morbid, Doctor Jackson?”  The pen tapped the pad lightly, pattering like the hard rain that he knew poured outside, rain he was isolated from.

“Yes, morbid.   I’m sure you can look it up, you have,” he gestured nervously, “all those books.”

“Yes, and I might add that my book are secure, if that is what you are worried about.”

“No, nothing, nothing is secure.”

“Doctor Jackson, Daniel, please.”  The voice had dropped it’s professional tone.  “We’ve known each other for a long time now.  Now I can see that you are hiding, that something is eating away at you.   As your Doctor I want to help you.   As your friend, I need to.”

Daniel looked up from his hands and took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around himself, then propping his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands.   His voice was small and shaken as he finally gave into the trauma that plagued him.  “I was. . .I was on a dig.  There was a huge building, it was old, and I was looking at the walls.   The writings, there was a chamber and we were digging it out, potfuls of clay at a time.”

“We?”

“The ch-children of the village.  The older ones, they were curious and good workers, so they helped.”  Daniel sat up and started to rock, his eyes distant.   “We had unearthed a large stone, and found an entrance.  There was a pillar. . .no.” His gaze focused defiantly. “I’m not telling you anymore, I want to go.”

“Daniel, you can’t leave yet.  I know you want to go, but this is important.  You’ve been here for over a week, don’t you want to go back to your home?”

“Yes.”

“There is only one way to do that.  You must remember.”

Daniel considered.   “The walls, we went in for a closer look, no. . .no don’t make me do this please. . .” his face fell in pain and a sob escaped him.  “Oh god. . .it was all my fault, all my fault. . .we had removed too much. . .” His face crumpled and he stood, fighting for control, walking to the sofa on the other side of the room.  The doctor looked at him.

“Then?” he asked gently.

“Then. . .everything fell.  I-I- it was. . .we were. . .I couldn’t move.  No one could move.   The kids were crying. . .oh god, please. . .help them!  Get off of me, help them!”   His eyes widened in shock, seeing the event replay in his mind.  “They were crushed,” he sobbed, “I couldn’t move, I couldn’t help them. . .they. . .four died. . .I-I killed them. . .Jesus Christ I killed them!”   He gripped the sides of his head, pulling at his hair.  “I killed them!   I killed them!   I killed. . .” He felt his hands being pried away and arms holding him still.  He sobbed into that white, uncaring jacket, hoping that underneath that cold exterior there was some warmth.  “Oh god. . .I’m so, so sorry. . .so sorry. . .”

They heard the commotion in the hall.  Jack swallowed, wishing with all his heart that he was in there with his friend.   Sam had her head buried in her hands, and Teal’c’s hand was on her shoulder.  George Hammond stood uncomfortably.  “And all this started with his bookshelf falling?”

“Yes sir.”   Jack replied in a low voice.   His eyes were on the floor, his tears hidden.  About twenty minutes later the door opened and Daniel was escorted out.  He walked past them, unseeing, exhausted, spent.   He was taken back to his room where he sat on the plain bedding and stared at the wall, not knowing his friends were right outside looking after him.  He stared at the wall where bookshelves should be. . . _books on shelves, books in nooks, books on shelves in nooks on hooks, one book down, blot out four, no one reading anymore_. . . .

**The End**

  


* * *

  


> OCTOBER 19, 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.   
> 

* * *

  



End file.
